


Clueless

by crzcorgi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crzcorgi/pseuds/crzcorgi
Summary: John finally realized his feelings for the reader are reciprocated





	

I knew I shouldn't feel this way, not about you. You were with my son for fuck's sake! I couldn't help it, couldn't control these feelings, these thoughts. But whenever I was around you, I was a fucking screwed up mess. 

“Earth to John! There's a quick salt and burn a state over. Dean and Sam still have to question those witnesses, so I was thinking we could head over?”

I came out of my thoughts to your hand waving in front of my face. 

“Uh, yeah, sounds good sweetheart.” 

I was in trouble.

“The boys said we could take the Impala, everywhere they're going is close by, so they won't need it.”

I was listening to you, trying to control my thoughts. All I could register was those damn plump lips of yours. And what they could do to me. 

“I just have to finish packing my duffel and I'll be ready to head out. Can you leave the guys a note?”

You headed into the bathroom and I let out a long breath that I hadn't realized I was holding in. How the fuck was I going to handle being in such close quarters with you, alone? How could I act all “normal” as if your smell, your very presence didn't do things to me. Dean's girl, a girl half my age. I realized my hand was shaking as I wrote the note.

“Okay, ready? Let's get on the road.”

Grabbing your bag, you headed out the motel door. I couldn't help but watch you, staring like some dirty old man. You looked simply gorgeous, jeans, a flannel that probably belonged to Dean, boots, very little makeup. 

Shaking my head, hoping upon hope that I could control my thoughts, my feelings. 

Getting into the Impala, watching as you programed that damn GPS, you turned, seeing me staring your way.

“John, you okay? You seem kind of out of it? You aren't second guessing me coming with you, are you? I mean, I thought after that massive shouting match we had, you know the one where I called you a chauvinistic ass, I thought you had come around?”

“Uh, yes, I'm okay.” Act normal. “I trust you, sweetheart, didn't mean to imply otherwise. And I believe it was ‘fucking chauvinistic asshole’ if I remember correctly, being an old man and all.”

You giggled, such a sweet as honey sound. “Oh yeah, I think you're right, sorry about that, John. And for the record, I don't think you're old at all, I forget all the time that your actually the boys’ father. Fuck, you're in better hunting condition than any of us.”

I glanced at you quickly, hoping my rapidly reddening face wasn't noticeable. 

“Well, thank you for the compliment, darling.” 

“You're welcome, John. We've got another hour or so before we get there, mind if I close my eyes? I didn't get much sleep last night, all 3 of you snore like fuck!”

“Be my guest, sweetheart.” I smiled. In many ways, you reminded me of Mary, but in more ways, you were very different. As you dozed off next to me, I thought back. Losing Mary almost killed me, thrusting me, my boys, into a life we didn't want. 

I wasn't celibate by any means, but I never fell in love again, never felt anything even close to love for another woman. Until you. When I met up with the boys after hunting on my own, it felt good to see them both happy, or as close to happiness that we can afford in the lifestyle. And I soon found out what the source of said happiness was. You.

I knew something was different with you. From the moment you stepped out of the bathroom, screaming at Sam, “You used all the fucking hot water cleaning all that hair, moose!” then glancing over at me, “who the hell’s this?” I was long gone, and there was no coming back.

Yeah, I gave you a hard time, and for that, I'm sorry. It's just, I couldn't, can't, have you have any kind of feelings for me, platonic or otherwise. Cause, darling, after this hunt, I'm gone. I can't be around you and not have you be mine. I'm sorry.

When we arrived at our destination, I gently shook you awake. You jumped up, wiping the sleep from those gorgeous eyes. 

“Sorry sweetheart, but we're here.”

“It's okay, John, you know how it is to be woken suddenly.”

“Gotcha.”

After you gave me the info on the ghost, we got in and out with just a couple of scratches. Or so I thought. Walking back to the car, I noticed a rather large bloodstain blossoming on your shirt. 

“Sweetheart, what the fuck is that?”

“It's nothing, John, I'm fine. I'll stitch it up and we can be on our way back to the boys.” 

Just then, you started lilting and began to fall. I caught you before you hit the ground, carrying you to the car. I put you down, back on your feet but holding onto you tightly with one arm.

“Nothing huh? Just hold on darling while I unlock the car. Then, I am taking a look at that and I will stitch it.”

“It honestly hurts like a mofo so I'm going to take you up on that, John.”

I opened the back door, helping you in. I opened the front door, grabbing the first aid kit out of the glovebox, spinning around quickly and making my way around to the other side. I climbed into the backseat with you, making sure not to make too much unnecessary movement.

“Can you move your top a bit?”

You tried to unbutton it, “I can't, John, fuck!” 

“It's okay sweetheart, let me help.”

“Okay.”

Fuck, I could see how much pain you were in. I hated it. I wanted to just make it fucking stop. I wanted to take your pain away. I wanted to hold you, telling you I was here for you. But no, that wasn't for me to do. That was for Dean. 

After I removed the flannel you were wearing, I realized you only had a bra on underneath. 

I must have visibly flinched, because you said, “I'm sorry, John. If I could take care of it myself, I would.”

I sighed. “No need to apologize, sweetheart, and I'm sorry that Dean isn't here to help you.”

“Dean? He can't stitch worth crap. And besides, his bedside manner leaves something to be desired. I'd rather you did it to be honest.”

While you were talking, I had begun cleaning the wound with whiskey, which you readily grabbed from me, downing a good amount. I then assessed the damage and had began stitching it. Every hiss, every small moan that escaped you making me fucking cringe. 

When you had finished talking, I realized exactly what you had said, not taking it all in until now.

“Well, that's kinda a strange thing to say about your boyfriend, sweetheart.”

You burst out laughing, which soon turned to a multitude of curses. 

“Jesus fucking christ, John! You like causing pain?!”

Trying to slap me, you hissed.

“Boyfriend, I truly hope you were joking. Weren't you?” You looked at me with concern.

“No, you and Dean, right?”

“No, not right! Where the fuck did you come up with that idea? Dean, Sam, there like my brothers that I never wanted. I thought you knew?”

I finished up your stitches, trying hard to understand what was going on. And why you looked so upset, if I didn't know better, a bit heartbroken.

“All finished, sweetheart.” I took my jacket off, then my flannel. “Let me help you put this on.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Sweetheart?”

“You don't know, do you?”

“Know what?” I was utterly confused.

“I'm not with Dean, or Sam for that matter. Never have been. You know what's it like in our world. Better to just spend a night with some stranger, no attachment, no one gets hurt. Up until this point, a relationship was the farthest thing from my mind.”

“This point?” What were you saying?

“You really are blind, John!” You giggled. Oh that sound, the effect it had on me. “Sam said you were!”

I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes, trying to understand what exactly you were saying. 

“I know I'm old darling, but you have me beyond confused. Can you speak plain English to me?”

Closing my eyes, I sighed. Suddenly, you were straddling me, your hands on either side of my face.

“John, open your eyes please.”

I wasn't sure I could, if I opened my eyes would you disappear? Is this all some fucking dream?

But I opened them to your eyes staring back at me. Your beautiful eyes. 

“Sweetheart? Is this real? I'm so fucking confused.”

You were rubbing your thumbs across my cheeks. “It's very real. My feelings for you are very real.”

“For how long?”

“Hmm, when did we first meet?”

“I…can't remember, darling.”

“Well, that long.”

You moved closer, your eyes never leaving mine.

“Kiss me, John.”

And I did. At first, slowly, your lips parting just enough for my tongue to enter. I could taste the whiskey you'd drank, and the tic-tacs you were popping before.

“I need you, John, now, please.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“I've been sure for far too long.”

I helped you out of my shirt, then your boots and jeans, which resulted in heads colliding and laughs. 

“This isn't how I pictured our first time.”

“Are you disappointed, darling?”

“Never.”

You were now on your knees, beside me, your gorgeous naked body on display, for me. I wanted to just drink you all in, every inch of your beauty. But we both had been waiting, wanting, for so long that we couldn't hold out.

I pulled you gently back onto my lap, feeling how wet you were. As we kissed, you began grinding on my dick, making me impossibly hard. Using one hand to massage hardening nipples, the other reaching down to tweak and circle your swollen clit. 

“John, I can't wait… I need you now.”

“Okay, baby, take me.”

You grabbed my cock, placing the dripping head at your entrance, slowly dropping down, causing us both to elicit moans that would make a porn star proud.

You began rising and sinking, the pace quickening. I pulled your head down, wanting to feel your lips again, to taste you. 

“I'm almost there.”

“Me too, cum baby, for me.”

And you came. And I came. And fuck, if it wasn't a million times better than I could ever imagine. This was real, you, in my arms. I ran my fingers up into your damp hair, combing through, trying to calm both us down.

You snuggled into my chest, shivering from the cold. I grabbed my jacket, placing it around you, hoping it might help.

You looked up at me, “well, this was certainly a very productive hunt, yes?” 

“You know it, sweetheart.” 

“So what happens now?” You placed your hand on my cheek, stroking it lovingly. Goddamn if I couldn't stay like this forever.

I leaned into your hand, closing my eyes. “With us, sweetheart? I'm not positive, but I am sure that I am not going back to what we were before. I'm not giving you up. Just not sure what the fuck to tell the boys.”

“Don't worry about them. Who do you think sent us on this hunt together?”

I laughed, thinking how I had to thank them when we met back up with them. 

We got dressed in silence, stealing glances at each other, permanent smiles on both our faces. Helping you back into your jacket, we climbed into the front seat heading back to the boys. 

Just a bit into the ride, I was daydreaming and didn't realize you had snuggled into my side. I placed my arm around your shoulder and I hurriedly kissed the top of your head. 

Thinking you were asleep, I whispered “I love you, sweetheart. I was so stupid to wait so long.”

“I love you too, John. And the wait was worth it.”

When we reached the boys, I bought another room for us, telling the boys that we needed sleep, nothing else. They shared a knowing glance. 

But we were soon awoken by a knock.

I crawled out of bed, and your arms, staggering over to the door. It was Dean.

“Care to explain?” He was holding up your bra, swinging it side to side. 

You answered from behind me, peeking around. 

“Oops! Sorry Dean!” You were snickering, smiling up at me.

Dean sighed, turned around, heading back to the Impala. “Son of a bitch!”

I turned, taking you in my arms, kicking the door behind me. 

“Let's go enjoy ourselves, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”


End file.
